


There'll Be Days Like This (TYLER JOSEPH)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph - Fandom, josh dun - Fandom
Genre: Ftm!Reader - Freeform, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans!Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word count: 1013<br/>Requested: Yes<br/>Warnings: Mention of transphobia, unsupportive parents, being kicked out. Read with discretion.<br/>FtM!Reader</p><p>Posted originally on my tumblr: @ leanwithitwriting</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There'll Be Days Like This

Tyler’s voice is warm as he speaks to you, running a hand down your thigh, “I want to meet your parents,”

And it’s one sentence that starts your heart racing, your face paling, your mind stumbling to try and come up with an excuse. It’s one sentence that you never wanted Tyler to hear.

“My parents?” You looked away from the movie you two were watching late on a Wednesday night, to Tyler. He was sitting at the end of the couch with your legs in his lap, absentmindedly nodding and stroking your leg. “Why do you want to meet my parents?”

He shrugged, “You’ve met my parents. I just thought it would be only fair. Plus, we’re getting married soon, don’t you think it’s appropriate to tell them, maybe even invite them?” You wanted to be mad at your fiance, but you couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know that, even if you invited them, they wouldn’t show up. They wouldn’t send a gift, wouldn’t send a card. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even care if you showed up with just married written on the back of your car and asked if they’d watch your cat while you went on honeymoon.

They would just slam the door in your face like they had when you were sixteen years old and you sat them down at the kitchen table, explaining yourself and the ace bandages on your chest. They called you names, kicked you out without an explanation and the last time you had heard from them is when you applied for college.

But after that? _Radio silence._

Tyler was patient for your answer, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, babe,” He quirked an eyebrow at you, “They’re just. Not the most tolerant people, if you get my drift.” You had thought, rather you had hoped, that Tyler would have let it drop there. But no, he paused the movie and shifted on the couch until he was facing you. He had a look of confusion on his face and you could see just a hint of pity behind it, so you knew a conversation was coming that you never wanted to have. You sat up and faced Tyler.

“What do you mean?” He asked, voice low, “You said you had a rocky relationship with them, but it was all good.”  
  
“It’s all good because I haven’t seen them in nearly a decade,” You admitted, eyes cast down, “It’s not… It’s not as simple as you think, Tyler.” All your boyfriend could do was utter your name, his hands finding your own, “It’s really complicated.”

“Tell me, Prince,” Tyler coaxed, “I’m here for you, please.” You were torn. Tyler knew the deepest part of you, he knew what others didn’t and he loved everything about you. You loved him, deeply, with all of his flaws. He told you everything, so why didn’t you tell him everything?

“When I was sixteen years old,” Your voice was shaking, hands twitching in Tyler’s, “I told my parents I’m trans. I thought they would be okay with it, as if I hadn’t heard them bad-talk the LGBTQ community before, but I was sure when it was their child, their son, that they would change their minds.” Tyler seemed to know where it was going, and his jaw clenched, eyes boring into yours, “That night, after they got done screaming slurs at me, threatening to beat me, they kicked me out. It was raining, it was cold, and I didn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Prince,” Tyler whispered, the pet-name coming out of his mouth with a deep sorrow and an underlying anger. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something before?” You shook your head, near tears, as you tried to find something to say. There were no words for how you felt, nothing to convey the feelings you had tried to bury for years.

“I didn’t want you to know,” You finally admitted, “I didn’t want you to think that I was weak, or that my parents were something that you thought they weren’t.” Tyler nodded and held your hands tighter, “I wasn’t going to bring it up, wasn’t going to tell you. I was scared. They’re not going to come to our wedding, Tyler,” His face hardened, “They’re not going to RSVP, not going to reply, not going to call and say they aren’t coming. They truly believe that I am dead, Tyler, that when I told them I was their son and not their daughter that I died.” Tyler seemed lost for words, like his world was collapsing around him.

“I am, I am so sorry,” He shook his head, bringing you closer, “I didn’t know. Please, next time, just tell me, okay? I don’t have to meet them, okay? Prince, I’m sorry, so so sorry.” You nodded and let Tyler pull you into his lap, his body falling to lay down on the couch. Your bodies were close to one another, heartbeats mingling with one another. He rubbed down your back, kneading the flesh exposed by the shirt riding up due to him pulling you over.

“It’s not your fault, babe,” You said, “I love you and you know that. It’s not your fault that they don’t want to be educated, not your fault that they can’t love someone who differs from the norm.”  
  
“You know that you’re not different, right? You know that you deserve to be who you are, that you know who you are and you know that you’re perfect the way you are, right?” You nodded, pushing your face into his chest as you tried to cuddle away the memories. Tyler held you close, his own body shaking as he thought about what you had to go through.

“I love you,” He rumbled, “You know that, right? I love you so much and I couldn’t imagine being without you.”

You nodded, “I love you too, and I’m glad I’m your Prince. I’m glad I told you.” After a heartbeat of silence, you added, “I’m glad I’m your Prince.”


	2. I'm Pacing The Pews In A Church Corridor (TYLER JOSEPH)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2183  
> Requested: Yes  
> Warnings: Transphobia, Anxiety, Mentions of familial rejection, internalized transphobia, Cursing  
> FtM!Reader  
> this messed me up lmao my dysphoria went sky high but i am okay now.

The family was arriving, finding their seats and you were shaking in the back room.

Your groomsmen tried to reassure you, but there was nothing they could do to stop you from quivering in your tux.

“Come on,” Josh rubbed your shoulders, “Tyler loves you. Tyler is waiting on you. You look dashing, but you need to calm down.”  
  
“I know he loves me,” You nodded, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, “I love him, too. I’m scared, Josh. I don’t have anyone out there for me.” Josh’s eyes seemed to sigh when his mouth smiled.

“Tyler’s out there for you. I am. My family, his family. You’re not alone just because your parents can’t accept you.” HIs words seemed to strike you, constricting around your lungs and making you breath heavier than normal.

“They’ll never accept me,” You finally muttered, pressing two fingers down on either temple, “Never. I guess I have to live with that, don’t I?” Josh nodded, a sad look on her face but he knew that you would be okay, you would be happier when you saw Tyler in his matching tux, ready to marry you.

“I guess, buddy. Now, let’s go. You’re going to marry my best friend!”

* * *

Everything was a blur, everything but Tyler. The way his warm hands encased your clammy, shaking ones, the way his eyes were locked on yours even when you flushed and looked to the floor. The way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe that he was going to be your husband.

And you were going to be his.

The waiting was the worst. Waiting for the priest to get to the good part, the part when you got to kiss Tyler, feel his body heat against you, become a real life, married couple with hospital visitation rights, insurance policies in both of your names….

It was a very adult thing to fantasize about, having all of the normal rights a heterosexual couple would have.

Your focus was skewed but the moment Tyler began to speak, mouth forming the words you had dreamed about since the moment you first met him, you were back at full attention, the only thing in the world that mattered was Tyler. You loved him and suddenly, all of the anger and sadness you were feeling before the wedding was gone; it was replaced by pure unadulterated excitement. You nearly bounced right off of the altar you were standing on, grinning so wide as Tyler spoke that it hurt.

Then it was your turn. You repeated after the officiant, mouth forming the words but your mind was thinking about the two that would solidify it. The priest asked Tyler first, if he would take you for his lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse.

Tyler barely missed a beat when he spoke, “I do.” Your heart jumped and you willed yourself not to cry because, hell, who cried at their wedding?

Then the priest turned to you, smiling when he saw your face flushed with emotion. He asked you, too, if you would take Tyler as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse. If it were possible, you spoke faster than Tyler, nearly cutting off the priest.

“I do!”

The audience chuckled at your eager tone, the sentiment echoing about the both of you. Tyler himself was blushing, harder than you’ve ever seen, and he seemed like he was going to cry. The words from the priest were garbled and next thing you knew Tyler was grasping your face with a fever that matched your exclamation and he was kissing you, pressing closer to you, pushing his love through the kiss to the warmth in your chest.

You were the first to remember that you were at a wedding- your own wedding-  so you pulled back and grinned, turning Tyler to look at the people who were there for you, to support you, to show their love for you and Tyler. He took your hand and held the clasped appendages up in the air, like he was showing you off.

In a way, he was.

* * *

The reception was in full swing. Your friends were on the dance floor having a blast and Tyler was basically connected to you at the hip. He had a goofy smile on his face and he kept kissing you, but you didn’t mind. The only thing you did mind was the fact that he was wrinkling your suit and you payed a lot for that thing.

“Prince, I am so happy.” Tyler kept saying that, arms around your shoulders as you kept your hands on his hips, “I am so happy to be married to you.”  
  
You turned and kissed his cheek, a grin on your face to match Tyler’s, “Technically, since we’re married, shouldn’t I be your King now?” Tyler laughed and spun you around quickly.

“If you want to be,” He said, “But I would love it if you were still my Prince.” You felt adoration rumble in your stomach as you looked Tyler in the eyes, nearly ecstatic.

“I will still be your Prince, Tyler. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He kissed you once more before Tyler’s shoulder was encased in a strong hand that you recognized even if you hadn’t seen the face.

“May I cut in?” And your breath stopped because you knew that voice, grew up with that voice and the last time you heard that voice you were getting kicked out of the house.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder at your father. You watched as his jaw clenched and his body tensed. You were sure when he opened his mouth that he would say something offensive, something to get your father to try and leave you alone, but you cut in before that.

The man had come to your wedding, had asked to dance with you, and if that wasn’t something you weren’t sure what would be.

“Tyler, go dance with Josh or something.” You fought to keep your tone light, a joking look on your face, but he could sense the underlying tension. He could feel it in your shoulders.

“Okay, Prince, I’ll be back soon.” Maybe to showboat, Tyler pressed a deep kiss to your lips and ran his hand down the curve of your back. Your father tried to avert his eyes and act like he had never seen it, but you knew he had. And you knew he was trying not to grit his teeth and say something. Your father took your hand and your waist as if you were a girl, and it made your stomach turn.

You had thought he was at your wedding to accept you, tell you he loved you, but you knew the moment he began leading you as if he was dancing with a daughter that it wasn’t the case.

“Why are you here?” You finally asked, letting your father spin you around, “Is my mother here?” You were cut off, snippy with your question, but he answered you anyway.

“No. She’s, ah, she’s at home. It’s not everyday that you get to see your daughter get married.”

_There it was._

The dysphoria flooded your belly in a second, acting as an accelerant for the hatred and the anger that flamed up, licking at your lungs and trying to escape through your throat. “I’m not your daughter,” You said in a tough voice, stepping back from your father, “And you can leave if you think that I am.” You had never said anything as brash to your father and he took a step back himself, surprised at how strong your voice sounded. “Well? Are you leaving?”

“Wait, please,” He said your name, but not your name. The name you had left on the doorstep all those years ago, the one that was on your birth certificate- but your old one. The name you buried with the dresses your father made you wear. You recoiled as it burned your skin, the places it touched your turning scaled and cracked with the weight of who the man saw you as.

Suddenly you felt like the whole room was spinning around you, staring at you, and it felt like the scene from Labyrinth, the movie with David Bowie, when Sarah was looking for Jareth during the party sequence of _Until The World Falls Down_. The people were looking at you, laughing, pointing and you empathized with Sarah for a split second, a moment before you were overtaken by the urge to cock back your fist and punch your father in the face. What a notion, taking the power away from your father by showing your dominance over him in the form of violence.

“I’m here to try and convince you-”

“To convince me to go back to being your _daughter_? To tell you I’m not trans? To convince me that what I’m going through is a phase? I’ve gotten married in a tux, it’s too late now. This is who I am.”

“But you’re my daughter.”

He was firm, as if he knew it was true, knew that you world wasn’t crashing down around you. But it was, the room was spinning faster and the party goers from the Labyrinth with their animal masks and flouncy dresses were pointing at you and laughing, calling you out and calling you a fraud.

The room suddenly stopped with your breathing and your heart, “Your daughter is fucking dead!” You spat, nearly literally, and your face squished into a look of resentment. “Your daughter is dead and you’re about to make yourself dead to your son. Fuck you.” The only thing you could think to do was spin on your heel and march out of the reception hall, into the chapel of the church it was being held. You were near tears, but if they were angry tears or sad tears, you weren’t completely sure.

You wanted to run away, but you couldn’t do that to Tyler. There were no metaphors or analogies to express how much he meant to you- you could say he was the Jareth to your Sarah but who would be the kidnapper of the baby and who would be the bratty, but well developed teenage girl?

You didn’t want to be the teenage girl, but you also didn’t want to be the jackass who took her baby brother and made her travel through a maze while you tried to turn the baby into a goblin.

So, really, there was no way to describe how you felt about Tyler, besides the fact that you loved him. And you loved him more when he burst into the chapel and honed in on you, pacing through the pews with your hands pushed deep into the pocket of your slacks. “Prince,” He breath, shiny shoes slapping against the floor creating a ringing sound that resonated. “There you are. What did he say to you?” Tyler encased your body, stopping yours from moving anymore. He nuzzed into your neck, breathing hard with fear or adrenaline, “Talk to me.”

“He called me his daughter,” You gasped, letting yourself relax into Tyler’s grip, “On my wedding day, he called me his daughter.”

“You know you’re not his daughter. You’re his son, you know that.” You nodded and turned in Tyler’s arms to wrap your own around his waist.

“I know,” You shuddered, “I know, Tyler, I know. But why doesn’t he know? Why can’t he get it? His daughter is dead and here I am, but he won’t let me live.” Tyler was silent and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, trying to convey everything he wanted to say to you without speaking, “I want him gone.”  
  
“Josh took him outside. He was pretty angry. Shaking.”  
  
“Josh is a good person.”  
  
“You’re a good person,” Tyler reassured you, “And I love you. and you’re my Prince and you will always be my Prince.” You nodded and wondered how Tyler could be so calm, so collected when you were still shaking, still dizzy from the spinning of the reception hall. Your feet were still unsteady, like you were still spinning.

“Thank you,” You whispered and when Tyler’s hand flattened against your back, the other curling around your neck to keep your head against his shoulder, you began to feel the dysphoria, the fire, melting away. Tyler was always colder than you, making him a good resource on a warm night, but then, at the reception, he was putting out the fire your father had started in your body cavities. “I love you, so much. Thank you for accepting me, for loving me.”  
  
“Well,” Tyler whispered in your ear, “It’s hard not to love you, Prince. You’re one of the best things in your life. I don’t care if you’re trans, all I care about is you’re happy and safe in the body that you want, okay? I love you for who you are.”


End file.
